January 31, 2020

Watertown, MA. May, 2013


In going through my accumulated treasures, selecting items for our annual town-wide yard sale, I came across a stash of theater programs that I’d purchased at another yard sale many years ago. The ads in the programs were wonderful, with illustrations and headlines for products from the 1930s and ‘40s. But the plays themselves, astonishing. The premiere performances of ‘Porgy & Bess,’ of Eugene O’Neill’s ‘Ah, Wilderness!’ (with George M. Cohan) and ‘Mourning Becomes Electra’ (with Alla Nazimova.) A young Brando was featured in ‘I Remember Mama.’ And there’s a ballet program for an American tour by Anna Pavlova. How can you put a price on things like this? Easy.

January 30, 2020

Tlacolula, Mexico. April, 2019


My friend Nick, who had been to Mexico a few months earlier, gave me a great birthday present: a guided tour of several sights in the valley south of Oaxaca, one of which was this Sunday market in Tlacolula. (The other six people on the tour were three Latino American Millennial couples from Los Angeles. I liked two out of three. Just saying.) This market was mad. First of all, look at those braziers cooking away out in the open as the formidable crowds pushed their way past them. One false step.... The smoke hung thick in the air and pervaded everything. Many people, vendors and customers alike wore native dress. And I love the dog ambling along in the lower right. (This may be my favorite photo from my entire Mexican trip. There's something about it that reminds me of those crowded paintings by Velasquez. Especially the dog.)

January 29, 2020

Tucson. April, 2013


A river runs through it. Seen here, a mosaic enhancement to a watering spot along my former running route. And while I’ve never seen any water in the Santa Cruz riverbed that my route follows, I’ve always appreciated wishful thinking.

January 28, 2020

Oaxaca, Mexico. April, 2019


My friend Paolo, who'd recently been to Oaxaca (with friend Nick and wife Natalie) had recommended Fonda Florecita, a casual cafe within a large market. I was not disappointed. I had a hot chocolate (made with milk, not water) and a concha (one of the many shapes of sweet breads on offer.) I loved all the visitors' autographs on the wall. And the fact that the proprietor humored me by letting me practice my Spanish.

January 27, 2020

Barcelona. November, 2010


When there are so many striking Gaudí buildings around the city, how does a present-day architect make his mark? With some difficulty, probably. But that doesn’t hold any of them back. Check out this building, steps from Gaudí’s Casa Battló, on the city’s fashionable avenida, the Passeig de Gràcia.

January 26, 2020

Puebla, Mexico. April, 2019


Among the many Mexican specialties that I wanted to try on my trip (I had a list) were these Tacos Árabes. Odd that "Arab" tacos are filled with roast pork, a food forbidden to Muslims, if not to all Arabs. Just one of the many contradictions found in this beautiful, mysterious country. I liked these tacos so much that I had them both for lunch and dinner that day at two different places. The ones shown were the winners. Maybe because they were so stuffed that they needed to be served with those paper wrappers.

January 25, 2020

Almería, Spain. November, 2013


And I thought German was the language for complex, multi-element nouns.

January 24, 2020

Mexico City. April, 2019


I love taking pictures of people taking pictures. This family has just brought their youngest (seated on the wooden horse) to be christened at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe, patroness of Mexico. In the background, a grotto commemorating the Virgin's appearing to Juan Diego (telling him she wants a church built in her honor on this very spot,) both parties represented by those small white statues.

January 23, 2020

Barcelona. November, 2010


We could not pass a single hardware store in Spain without Dr. Blake’s showing off that he knew this vocabulary word. He had determined that he was going to buy a sharpening stone here in Spain in order to remember this trip each time he honed his knives back in Massachusetts. He did. And he does. (Happy Birthday to my beloved Dr. B today, a man with a birth date mercifully easy to remember: 1.23.45)

January 22, 2020

Lisbon. October, 2009


Oh, those Portuguese do love their salt cod. Just look at this display in a department store food section. Throughout Lisbon (and just about every other Mediterranean country we’ve visited) there are stores that sell nothing but this dried and salted fish. Why, even back home in the US of A, salt cod can be found just about anywhere large groups of Mediterranean immigrants have settled. Including Gloucester, MA, and Boston and its environs where I see it all the time. I’ve really tried to like it. Can’t.

January 21, 2020

Puebla, Mexico. April, 2019


There is beauty and pride in craft everywhere in Mexico. Look at this door, for example, one of many such in the city of Puebla. I wonder what the natives thought when they saw this gringo snapping pictures of things they pass by and take for granted every day. (Can you see the hand-shaped door knocker? Another extra-nice touch.)

January 20, 2020

Málaga, Spain. November, 2013


We always seem to be in Europe during peak mushroom season. I remember reading that Jacques Pépin, when he first came to America in 1959, was shocked that he couldn’t find any mushrooms in the stores aside from an occasional cultivated white button type. He’d have no issues with this fully stocked stall in Málaga’s’ mercado central.

January 19, 2020

Oaxaca, Mexico. April, 2019


I stayed at two different B&Bs run by the Casa de Bugambilias group in Oaxaca. This striking wall is in their main building. Death as decor: Skulls that suggest the past, but are oh so modern in their presentation. As with Mexico's Day of the Dead figures, there seems to be a comfort level around death there that we gringos don't possess.

January 18, 2020

Tucson. April, 2013


There are colors you can get away with in Tucson (or Mexico) that you cannot get away with in Boston. Seen here, a curb around the future streetcar line near the University of Arizona. Red, orange, stripes, yes.

January 17, 2020

Oaxaca, Mexico. April, 2019


This past March, when I learned that I was slated for a major surgical procedure in late April, I decided that not only would I immediately go on a trip to Mexico, but I would eat as many of the local specialties as I could. Seen here on the right, a dish of guacamole covered with fried grasshoppers, or chapulines. I can tell you that they are mostly crunch, no real flavor. And, mercifully, they are much smaller than the grasshoppers you may be used to, only about one inch long, maybe an inch and a quarter. Buen provecho.

January 16, 2020

January 15, 2020

Coyoacán, Mexico City. April, 2019


The colors of Mexico. (Compare this to the Swiss photo posted yesterday.) I took a day trip (by subway) to the village of Coyoacán, a suburb of Mexico City. After a walk from the station through a beautiful park, I emerged in this quiet Santa Caterina Plaza. (I later learned that my friend Roberto Santibañez grew up two blocks away, that his mother still lives there.)

January 14, 2020

Zürich. June, 2007


If you’re going to have a night to spend in Zürich en route from Istanbul to Boston, it’s nice to have it be in June. And especially nice to time it to spend the evening with my friend Nick, who apprenticed nearby some 100 years ago. On a walk from our hotel through streets Nick knew well, this late spring sunlight, dappled. (I am surprised that the formal, rule-following Swiss allow such random patterns.)

January 13, 2020

Puebla, Mexico. April, 2019


Mexicans are not shy about their use of color. Take, for one example, the staircase from the patio to the guest rooms in my hotel. Pink throughout. I'm not complaining.

January 12, 2020

Watertown, MA. May, 2013


Getting older is tricky. It sneaks up on you in tiny degrees. A bit more gray hair. A bit less hair, period. Injuries or cuts take longer to heal. Slow insidious changes. And mostly I’m OK with all of them, they don’t bother me. These free weights, once a daily part of my fitness regimen...I realized recently as I was gathering items for a yard sale, that I would never use them again. Ouch.

January 11, 2020

Puebla, Mexico. April, 2019


The colors of Mexico. If you can't remember the name or address of your hotel, perhaps you can just remember the color. Mine was pink.

January 10, 2020

Istanbul. October, 2011


If you’re going to be a cat in Istanbul, there are worse places to hang out than at the casual fish restaurants along the Golden Horn, just beyond the city’s main fish market. For the diner, the proximity to the market means the freshest fish comes to your table. For the kitty, well, it means a few moments of demonstrative waiting before someone’s heart melts and a little bit of seafood is casually dropped from the table. Jay and I saw one cat maneuvering an entire fish frame that a generous diner had let slip to the ground.

January 9, 2020

Mexico City. April, 2019


A notice in my hotel room: What to do in case of earthquake or fire. But what I wondered was, what to do in case you don't understand Spanish? Conserve la calma.

January 8, 2020

Phoenix. April, 2013


Three ex-Bose-os walk into a Mexican restaurant.... As soon as I knew I was headed for a visit to my friends Simon and David in Tucson, I contacted my former Bose colleagues Eileen and Ted, each of whom now lives near Phoenix, and made lunch plans. An early morning bus from Tucson, a few hours with my friends, a bus back. What a great day. And what great friends. We laughed ourselves silly. With good food to boot. Wish they lived closer.

January 7, 2020

Oaxaca, Mexico. April, 2019


This is the breakfast room of the B&B I stayed at in this wonderful, colorful town. When I came down for breakfast on my first morning there, I saw this mural and wondered, "How did they know I was coming?" (And if that wasn't gay enough, when the fan on the right was turned on, all of the red stars twirled.)

January 6, 2020

Tucson. April, 2013


When my friend Simon (born and raised in New England) moved to Tucson many years ago, I asked him if he missed being near the sea. “The sky compensates,” was his answer. I think of this when I visit him now in his new desert hometown. The sky is always blue, very nearly always cloudless. All the more striking because nothing in the baked brown landscape is blue at all. So when the alien color is introduced (as in this brick wall), it really stands out.

v

January 5, 2020

Mexico City. April, 2019


The Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe is a short subway ride from the very center of the city. When I visited, I saw dozens of families bringing their infants to be baptized at the grotto dedicated to the patroness of Mexico. Some families were joyous. Some less so, almost on the verge of an argument. Which do you think this family was? (At least the baby seems happy.)

January 4, 2020

Istanbul. June, 2007


Some Americans shudder at the idea of fish being served to them in European or Asian restaurants because it hasn’t been filleted before it comes to table. And they’re missing out on a great treat when they don’t order it. Remove the head. remove the tail. Then filet it yourself along the central frame. Flip it over and filet the other side. Or ask a waiter to do it for you. They’ve done it hundreds of times and know what they’re doing. The grilled-on-the-bone taste is worth any effort. (Seen here, a wonderful treat at the equally wonderful Beyoğlu restaurant Sofyalı 9.)

January 3, 2020

Mexico City. April, 2019


After a very hot day's visit to the ancient ruins an hour north of the city, I stopped at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe on my way back into town. I had an ulterior motive. I lit a candle (as had so many others,) and asked not that my cancer be removed (I thought that was too much to ask,) but that it wouldn't spread. A few months later, after my surgeon operated on me, he said that my cancer, extremely aggressive as it was, had somehow not expanded beyond its original location. He was amazed by this, saying that he thought it was, well, miraculous.

January 2, 2020

Cartagena, Spain. November, 2013


What was this strange item that we kept seeing in the produce markets of the various Spanish towns we visited? It looks like some kind of peeled artichoke, no? Finally, in Cádiz, we worked up the nerve to ask. Fruit or vegetable? Fruit. How do you eat it? Slice it in half and spoon it out, spitting out the many seeds. What color is it inside? White. How come we’ve never seen it in the United States? It’s a tropical fruit. We bought one and sliced it open at lunch on our boat the next day, unleashing a torrent of curiosity among both our fellow guests and our Indonesian crew, each of whom had a story of something similar in his homeland. Like papaya with plenty of seeds, it was very sweet and probably not something we need to try again.

January 1, 2020

Oaxaca, Mexico. April, 2019


I started Sandy Leonard Snaps nine years ago today. Happy anniversary to me. As some of you may know, I have been battling bladder cancer for the past five years (see photo above.) The most recent surgery I underwent this past November seems to have been successful. Meanwhile, I developed a serious crush on my urologist/surgeon, which, I believe, aided in my speedy recovery. I had feared that I would not be able to continue with SLS, but I guess that's not the case. I still have lots of photos, so watch this space...and best wishes for a happy and healthy 2020.

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